


The Imperial Ride

by ThinkingCAPSLOCK



Category: Motorcity
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 15:44:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThinkingCAPSLOCK/pseuds/ThinkingCAPSLOCK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sunrises just weren't the same. Besides, she slept through most of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Imperial Ride

**Author's Note:**

> Bit of a drabbly fic, wanted to try and get into the swing of writing again.

The sunsets were her favourite part of the day as a child. The bright colours spilled across the growing city, the reds splashed along the whites. Her mother sat Julie in her lap on the armchair. They bathed in warmth and named the colours of the rainbow. The sun was yellow, the clouds were orange, the buildings were-

"Daddy's hair!"

But no, no, that wasn't a colour, Julie. They pressed their noses to the glass until the sky turned black.

-

Inside her house, nothing had colour. Her toys were pale blue and silent to match her clothes and her food and her bodyguards. 

When they weren't looking she'd sneak looks at pictures from long ago, bright green grass and yellow flowers and neon blue skies.

-

The windows had thick panes of glass to keep her safe. The block she shared with her mother was nothing special, but was too small for a teen with a spirit. She smudged her fingerprints along the glass as high up as she could reach.

Another hand, frail and worn, pulled hers back. Julie sat on her mother's lap and gazed up at a smudged sky.

-

There was a difference to the quiet when she was home alone and when her mother was never coming back. The armchair sagged a little more, the kitchen got a bit dirtier. Julie turned the heat up, up and up, and shivered. 

The floor appeared dull and ugly. She threw the armchair at the window. It clattered downwards into a slowly forming pool of red light.

-

There were cracks in the city, her father had warned her. Cracks that house the filth of the underworld.

Julie saw a boy create a sunset on the side of a building, and then slither down into one of the cracks. The paint was damp. Her fingers burned with warmth as they smeared the colours together.

-

Old Detroit was a different kind of burning, a different kind of sunset. The colours never faded and dared the darkness to overtake them. The air was cold but the atmosphere bubbled with the yellow flowers and the green grass she had dreamed of.

Julie's car was yellow, the lights were orange, the signs were-

-

There were only a few streaks of red left in her father's hair. The rest shone out as a beacon, day or night, reminding her to crawl back up the cracks and find her home again.


End file.
